


In Some Ways Ideal

by nonebutyou



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 14:56:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17983277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonebutyou/pseuds/nonebutyou
Summary: In the spare room, on the single bed, James and Harry have three conversations of varying degrees of importance.





	In Some Ways Ideal

**one.**

It’s remarkable how draining it is, living with so many people.

James muses on this as he lies on top of the bedcovers, forearm shielding his eyes from the dim light of the lamp beside him. It’s not that he’s too used to solitude; he’s had successful— well, to a point— forays into cohabitation since he moved to Hollyoaks, and quite frankly, he feels he’s mellowed out a lot since then. If anything, this living-with-other-people business should be easier, not harder.

He winces at the sound of an argument starting up in the kitchen. The problem, he decides, is that there are so many people and they’re all so _noisy_. He’s not unreasonable enough to expect constant silence, but it’s as if everyone currently living in his home has decided their default setting should be _chatterbox_. Even Romeo, who had initially been more reserved, seems to have been influenced by his grandmother and Cindy. The three of them together go on and on like they have to meet a set target of tedious conversations in one day.

The bedroom door opens and shuts, briefly letting in Cindy’s protest about something she’s watching on TV. 

‘You look like a swooning maiden,’ Harry comments. The bed dips to one side when he leans a knee on it. ‘Shove over a bit, please.’

James doesn’t bother moving. ‘Where to? There isn’t anywhere for me to “shove over”, short of ending up on the floor.’

‘Someone’s feeling grumpy tonight,’ Harry laughs, which is true enough that James doesn’t kick up a fuss at Harry making him sound like a toddler in need of a nap. ‘What’s got you in a mood?’

‘Everything!’ James flings his arm off his face, a little more dramatically than he would have liked, and looks at Harry despairingly. ‘The constant chatter, the toys tripping me up everywhere I go. My mother’s clothing seemingly migrating to the living room and making a new home there— God knows why when she has the master bedroom and its _extremely_ spacious wardrobe. And the magazines! Those never-ending piles of mind-numbing, breathlessly libellous _rags_.’

There’s a pause, during which James catches his breath and Harry stares at him.

‘You know, you get very wordy when you’re annoyed,’ Harry finally says. ‘It’s interesting.’

‘If you’re going to make fun of me—’

‘I’m not.’ The bed sinks a little further as Harry climbs up and straddles him in one deft movement. James automatically tenses in anticipation, which he knows, going by the little smirk that never fails to make Harry infinitely more attractive to him, has been noticed and noted.

‘But,’ Harry continues, his palms smoothing up over James’ chest and resting like an afterthought over his collarbones, ‘I do think you need to relax. This is only short-term, remember? You’ll sort your dad out soon enough and have your neat and tidy flat back in no time. No toys, no clothes in the living room— except what we lose there, of course— and no more gossip rags.’

James is vaguely disgusted with himself for being so easily managed, but he can’t help relaxing under Harry’s hands and soothing tone all the same.

‘I loathe those magazines,’ he tells Harry seriously. ‘I genuinely don’t understand why anyone would read them.’

‘Actually, there was a pretty good story this week about Kate and Meghan feuding—’

‘Don’t even get me started on those royals—!’

He’s cut off by Harry’s forehead dropping onto his chest. Harry’s shoulders are shaking with laughter, and it’s in his words when he says, ‘James, I swear, sometimes I think you’re secretly a miserable seventy-year-old man trapped in a thirty-something’s body.’

‘So what does it say about you that you picked me over that… Vernon?’

‘Nothing good, probably,’ Harry says. He lifts his head and grins when James rolls his eyes.

Harry pulls himself upright again with a languorous stretch, which for some reason necessitates pressing his body all along James’ on his way up. He stays perched comfortably there, his hands making their way back down to fiddle idly with the buttons on James’ long-sleeved shirt. A button slips open, and he rubs his thumb over the skin it reveals. James twitches.

‘Harry…’ he says warningly.

‘What?’ Harry blinks innocently at him, but it’s not as effective as it would have been without the wicked smile.

‘Weren’t you the one who said we couldn’t have sex when there are people home?’

He undoes another button. ‘I said that? Are you sure it wasn’t you?’

James narrows his eyes. Harry is a shameless tease, but James can play this game, too. He starts at Harry’s ankles, works his touch delicately along Harry’s calves, curled up on either side of him in soft pyjama bottoms.

‘I have a very good memory, and I distinctly recall the two of us having that conversation in this very bed. I remember you were in my lap, half-naked and grinding oh-so-slowly up against me…’ He drops his voice, low and throaty, lingering over each word, and continues touching, spreading his hands wide and languid over Harry’s thighs. ‘You were flushed and working up quite the sweat, so sweetly desperate. I wanted to shove you down and lick up every last drop…’

Harry’s biting his bottom lip, which he does when he’s on the edge of losing control. He’s hard, James can feel it, and he’s so gorgeous that James really does want to shove him down right there and then. He has a point to make, though.

‘But then,’ he says at his usual volume, letting go of Harry’s delectably firm thighs and interlocking his hands to rest under his head, ‘someone started clattering around in the kitchen and spooked you into stopping. You said it was one thing to have sex knowing someone was nearby, but another thing to have sex knowing that person could be my mother or my teenage son.’

He smiles serenely at Harry who gapes at him, looking bewildered by the sudden change in tone, and then thumps him on the shoulder.

‘You’re such a bastard,’ Harry hisses at him. 

‘Only in one sense of the word,’ James says smugly. ‘As far as I know, anyway.’

He happily watches Harry huff and squirm for a minute. It’s quite the thrill knowing he can get Harry going so quickly with just a few words.

Finally, Harry gives in, though not without a last glare at him. ‘Fine, you were right; I did say it felt weird to have sex when everyone’s home. I’ve changed my mind, alright?’

James raises an eyebrow in polite inquiry. ‘Really? Why is that?’

‘Because that day, with me all desperate, that’s how I always feel with you,’ Harry tells him bluntly. He strips his shirt off and rocks his hips against James’, letting him feel the extent of that desperation. ‘I want you all the time, even when I know I shouldn’t. And I want you _right_ _now_ , James.’

A half-naked Harry Thompson is already difficult to turn away from. A half-naked Harry Thompson, declaring how James makes him desperate against all reason? It would take a man far stronger than James to resist that. Not that he has any intention of resisting.

‘We have to be careful,’ James says as Harry tugs his shirt open all the way. ‘I might not have any objections to doing this now, but I would like to avoid making it obvious to everyone outside this room.’

‘Yes, yes, I’ll be quiet,’ Harry says impatiently. ‘Now will you kiss me already?’

James obliges. Harry does _not_ keep his word, and for the rest of the week, Cindy takes to smirking at them whenever she catches them together.

;-;

**two.**

Harry is stretched out on the bed, frowning over his laptop. He’s been doing that a fair bit lately, and in between picking through his ties and eyeing them against a dark blue shirt, James wonders if he should ask about it. He’s curious, but he trusts Harry to talk to him if something is troubling him. In some ways, their tortuous, unconventional love story has given their relationship a stronger foundation than most; there’s no need to hide anything when they already know the darkest, most twisted parts of each other.

‘You know, if you want to ask, you can just ask.’

James lays a tie down over the back of a chair and considers another. ‘Oh, alright. How _do_ you wake up with such perfectly styled hair every morning?’

Harry smiles at the deflection, which James has to admit isn’t his best work, and types something. ‘I’m looking into going back to uni.’

He doesn’t weigh the words down with any particular significance, but James pauses, knowing the magnitude of the decision. It means Harry is ready to get his life back on track and take back the bright future he deserves. James isn’t sure what’s led to the decision, but it seems his time away from Hollyoaks has done him a world of good, and James is glad for it. He wants Harry to achieve to his full potential, to be happy and confident in his own worth.

‘Good,’ James says briskly, neatly discarding another length of patterned silk. ‘I’ve always been an advocate for higher education. And you’ll let me know if you need any advice or help with anything, of course.’

Harry smiles again, this time warm and pleased. ‘Of course.’

He works on his laptop a little longer, though when James changes into the blue shirt, he’s amused to see Harry stopping briefly to watch. There’s comfortable silence while James tidies away his ties and loops the chosen one around his neck.

‘Hey, have you talked to Romeo lately?’ Harry asks suddenly, setting aside his laptop to focus on James.

‘We live under the same roof,’ James says, knotting the tie with practised ease. ‘It’d be odd if we didn’t speak.’

‘I don’t mean talk like “pass the marmalade, thanks” or “if you spend any more time on that phone, you might as well have it surgically attached to your face”. I mean really talk. Meaningful stuff.’

‘That second one was meaningful. I was thinking about his health.’

‘Stop being clever,’ Harry says, and he immediately holds up a hand to forestall James’ retort, which is perhaps a sign of how well he knows James now. ‘Yes, I know you can’t help being clever, and neither of us would want you any other way. But seriously, you should talk to Romeo about what’s going on in his life outside this flat. He seemed a bit moody yesterday when we were playing Bananagrams.’

James hasn’t noticed any moodiness, but he doesn’t doubt Harry’s observations. He’s been so caught up in efforts to take his father down that he hasn’t spent as much time with Romeo as he’d like. The idea of being a parent is still as overwhelming as it had been when he’d first realised he had a chance at it, but he wants to do it well. Romeo should feel comfortable coming to him for support with the “meaningful stuff” at any time, not just for a last resort fix or when he’s reached the end of his rope.

‘I’ll take him out to lunch today and talk to him then,’ James decides. He ducks over to kiss Harry goodbye, though it’s difficult as always to pull back and leave. ‘Dinner tonight?’

‘It’s a meal eaten in the evening, yes,’ Harry says, very dryly. James is inordinately delighted by it and kisses him again.

‘I like it when you’re being clever, too,’ he explains. ‘What I mean is, would you like to go out for dinner with me tonight? I feel like a meal without Juliet’s histrionics or Hilton’s frankly disgusting table manners.’

Harry breaks into laughter. ‘He’s a kid. What else do you expect?’

‘Certainly not to lose my appetite every time I look at him.’

He’s on his way out, having gotten Harry’s promise to meet him later, when something Harry had said finally registers in his mind. ‘You and Romeo were playing _Bananagrams_?’

‘It’s a word game. We were playing with your mum. She comes up with the most hilarious things when she gets a bit tipsy.’

He can imagine. ‘But why wasn’t I invited?’

‘Because you weren’t home?’ Harry eyes him warily. ‘Your mum said you get very competitive at games. If we invite you to our next game night, are you going to get all bogged down in the rules? Or sue us for all our Monopoly property?’

‘Very funny. I’ll have you know I could clean you all out without any legal trickery.’

‘We’ll see.’ Harry goes back to poking nonchalantly at his laptop. ‘Romeo reckons he can get Juliet to join us next time, and you know what she’s like.’

James does. An unapologetic con artist with plenty of rage to work out. She won’t be easy to win any game against, unless James has a say in what they play.

‘I can hear you scheming,’ Harry informs him without looking up.

James neither dignifies that with an answer, nor stops scheming.

;-;

**three.**

James is thinking. He’s always thinking, of course, but tonight his thoughts are calmer, more settled, the sort of peace that comes with knowing a toxic part of his life has been scrubbed away for good.

‘I’m going to miss this,’ Harry says quietly.

James shifts a little, tracing a question mark in the small of Harry’s back. Harry is draped over James’ chest, loose-limbed and breathing softly, and he relaxes even further when James continues drawing mindless patterns over his skin.

‘This. Sleeping so close to you.’

James furrows his brow. ‘We’ll still be sleeping together when we’re back in our double bed.’

‘Not like this.’ Harry doesn’t sound upset, but James pays close attention. ‘You like to move into your own space in bed. While we’re in this single, there’s nowhere for you to go.’

In the still of night, everything seems to take on greater meaning, more significance. It may be that Harry simply likes cuddling or someone to sneak his cold hands under, but James thinks instead about security and stability, and the ways someone who’s faced so much chaos and upheaval in life, like Harry has, might look for it.

‘Sorry,’ Harry says, sounding embarrassed when James doesn’t reply. ‘I’m coming off really needy, aren’t I?’

‘No. Don’t apologise for what you feel. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be close to someone.’

‘Just you,’ Harry corrects him lightly.

James turns his head and rests his lips against Harry’s temple so Harry can feel his smile.

‘I can’t say I’m not looking forward to getting our bed back tomorrow,’ he admits, ‘but it doesn’t mean we have to stop sleeping like this. I’ll stay close when I’m awake and I give you permission to do what you like to my body when I’m asleep.’

‘It sounds so wrong when you put it like that.’

‘If your mind’s permanently in the gutter, I suppose.’

Harry sighs, but it’s fond. ‘Thank you.’

In the still of night, everything seems to come more easily. James finds the words he needs and doesn’t falter over them.

‘I want you to feel safe with me, Harry. If there’s anything you need, you only have to ask.’

Harry leans up to kiss him. He doesn’t say anything, and James knows it’s because he’s secure in the knowledge that he doesn’t have to.

‘It’s going to be quiet without all of them here,’ Harry murmurs a while later. James can tell it won’t be long until he’s asleep. ‘Feels weird to think I won’t get to hear Juliet explaining the Kardashians to your mum anymore.’

‘Yes, that was a memorable evening. Almost as memorable as Cindy’s impassioned speech about Danny Dyer’s real value to the nation.’

‘They really like their celebrities, don’t they?’

‘Hmm.’ There’s a lot James could say about that particular preoccupation, but Harry is familiar enough with his opinion. ‘They seem to really like you, too. I hear you have a standing invitation to Cindy’s for drinks and trashy television.’

‘Jealous they haven’t asked you?’

‘Hardly,’ James sniffs. ‘I’ve had enough of that rubbish to last me a lifetime.’

‘Well, I won’t abandon you for them just yet. We have a double bed to reclaim and I plan to do it thoroughly.’

It’s a lovely thought to end the day with, and James falls asleep smiling.


End file.
